I vacillated far too long,
Waiting on a word,
Ears perked up for your song,
A note, the whisper that wouldn't come.
I walked around, softly,
Head bowed,
Tongue pressed down,
Beneath my teeth,
Hands outstretched, holding your crown
A chaste, serf thing.
Going through all these things,
Before you wake,
After you slumber,
In and out of mind,
Praying for the day it
Would all be returned in kind.
Jason Christopher Johnson
September 5, 2013
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